We have a hunch that you have either heard the song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” hummed along with it, or even contemplated the words of the over six-minute long ballad. It’s one of those that once in, you can’t get it out of your head. It was sung by Gordon Lightfoot and released in 1976. The popular ballad made the sinking of Edmund Fitzgerald one of the best known disasters in the history of Great Lakes shipping.
But for being one of the better known disasters in Great Lakes history the November 10, 1975 sinking remains to this day quite a mystery.
Some of the known’s follow.
- The “Fitz” as it was nicknamed first launched in 1958. It was the largest ship to have sailed in the Great Lakes and remains the largest to have ever sunk there.
- The ship and its crew had safely navigated over 1,000,000 miles in its 17 years in the lakes mostly taking the very same route each time. That is the equivalent of several trips around the globe.
- It left Superior, Wisconsin on 11/9 with a quite full load of iron ore (26,000 tons) and was riding low in the water per its design.
- Its destination was just outside of Detroit even though Lightfoot sang its destination as Cleveland.
- Its captain,Ernest M McSorley, a grizzled veteran, saw the weather forecast prior to embarking and thought the worst of a gale force wind storm would pass south of Lake Superior when they got there. It didn’t.
- En route to a steel mill near Detroit, they joined a second freighter, SS Arthur M. Anderson. By the next day, the two ships were caught in a severe storm on Lake Superior, with near hurricane-force winds and waves up to 35 feet high.
- Shortly after 7:10 p.m., Edmund Fitzgerald suddenly sank in Canadian (Ontario) waters 530 feet deep, about 17 miles from Whitefish Bay. It was near the twin cities of Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, and Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. Per the captain’s update, they were headed to the bay to get out of the worst of the storm and could have covered that distance in just over an hour at her top speed after his transmission.
- Although Edmund Fitzgerald had reported being in difficulty earlier, no distress signals were sent before she sank. Captain McSorley’s last message to Arthur M. Anderson said, “We are holding our own.”
- Her crew of 29 perished, and no bodies were recovered.
What isn’t known is why.
- Clearly the wind caused the huge lake to grow violent. But McSorley was known as a bad weather pilot having steered through like conditions in these same waters many, many times before.
- Rescue efforts began by air and by sea and quickly. They were in vain. A few life vests and a few pieces of wood were all that were ever seen floating aimlessly on the surface. Why so little after only an hour or two had passed?
- One theory is that it’s design (low in the middle when loaded) allowed the waves to crash repeatedly over the top and unsecured hatches ( a rather common practice then) slowly filled with water causing it to sink.
- Another theory is that three consecutive waves, commonly called three sisters, in excess of thirty feet each swamped the cargo areas in rapid fashion without allowing the first nor second wave to slide back into the angry sea. They could have caused the ship to rapidly sink, explaining the lack of a distress signal. The SS Arthur Anderson, about 14 miles behind, reported two such waves shortly before all communication with the Fitz was lost.
- Yet another theory has the ship thrown into nearby shoals causing it to break up. Subsequent underwater missions have shown no evidence of that type of damage though.
- A final theory had the boat structurally effectively snapping in two on the surface from the pressure in the ship’s middle. Research teams, due to the two pieces only lying 150 apart on the bottom argue against the surface breakup and for the breakup as it hit the bottom.
The Edmund Fitzgerald’s original bell recovered and now a museum exhibit. - These research “dives” have photographed the ship split nearly in half though supporting theories two or three above. The bow is sunk and “stands” vertically at the bottom while the stern is at about a 45 degree angle. These findings support the weight of the ore, the low middle of the ship, and the sudden disappearance.
- Numerous investigations have led to numerous safety improvements since then for crew, cargo, ship design, navigation requirements, and storm notification. Perhaps some good came of a lot of bad.
- No one will ever know what actually happened.
While this story pales in comparison to the mega tragedy story of the Titanic, it still fascinates to this day. How could a veteran crew sailing in familiar lake waters all perish without a prior word of warning? In Gordon Lightfoot’s ballad he wondered the same and honored those crew members for it.
The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald”
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
[Former version:] That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
[Latter version:] That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came earlyThe ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
Then later that night when the ship’s bell rang
Could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
When the wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too
‘Twas the witch of November come stealin’
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin’
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane west windWhen suppertime came, the old cook came on deck
Saying, “Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya.”
[Former version:] At seven PM a main hatchway caved in
[Latter version:] At seven PM it grew dark, it was then
He said, “Fellas, it’s been good to know ya.”
The captain wired in he had water comin’ in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund FitzgeraldDoes anyone know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay
If they’d put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughtersLake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below, Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered[Former version:] In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
[Latter version:] In a rustic old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors’ Cathedral
The church bell chimed ’til it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
[Former version:] That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
[Latter version:] That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came earlyThe ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
Then later that night when the ship’s bell rang
Could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
When the wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too
‘Twas the witch of November come stealin’
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin’
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane west windWhen suppertime came, the old cook came on deck
Saying, “Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya.”
[Former version:] At seven PM a main hatchway caved in
[Latter version:] At seven PM it grew dark, it was then
He said, “Fellas, it’s been good to know ya.”
The captain wired in he had water comin’ in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund FitzgeraldDoes anyone know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay
If they’d put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughtersLake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below, Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered[Former version:] In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
[Latter version:] In a rustic old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors’ Cathedral
The church bell chimed ’til it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early
Based on the evidence we can conclude that Bill Clinton was no saint.
Based on the evidence we can conclude that Donald Trump is no saint.